


Broken Reality

by MemoryDragon



Series: Broken Reality [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: 900+ years of UST will do that to you, A really messed up First Time, AU, Angst, Explicit Sex, First Time, M/M, Mem's first time writing sex, More dub-con than non-con, The Master is a prisoner in the TARDIS trope, and it disturbs the author, b_e anon fill, but be warned it's there, she learned it all from the b_e anon meme, these two aren't nice to each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-18
Updated: 2011-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-17 04:29:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MemoryDragon/pseuds/MemoryDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trapped in the TARDIS of his best enemy, the Master finds that getting what he wants isn't always a good thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Reality

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the best_enemies anon kink meme prompt: " _Any Doctor/Master from Three/Delgado on up: The Doctor and the Master have had EST (Epic Sexual Tension) for centuries, but they have never managed to resolve it. I want their first time._ "  
>  **WARNINGS:** While this isn't quite non-con, it's still dub-con for a while and definitely explicit sex. Also, this isn't a happy fic. It's pretty dark, actually...  
>  **Thanks:** Many thanks to Cyropi again for her wonderful betaing. She not only made this a thousand times better, but also offered me council when I was feeling disturbed and gave me ways to make it not-so-disturbing (even if I ended up not taking that route). Also, thanks to the original prompter for giving me a reason to write that fight scene that was totally awesome but had no plot for. XD It now has a plot, if a disturbing one...  
>  **Notes:** So... yes. Not only was it the Doctor and the Master's first time for sex, it was mine too. XD Granted, I'm still completely virginal (and quite happy to stay that way, thanks) and female so writing a sex scene between two guys was interesting, to say the least. According to my readers on LJ though, it's apparently worked?
> 
>  **Originally Posted:** Jan. 18, 2011
> 
> Update: Now available in [Chinese](http://www.mtslash.com/thread-118695-1-1.html) by [CheengChang](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CheengChang/pseuds/CheengChang)!

The Master glared at his captor, taking what little pleasure he could from how uncomfortable it made his one-time friend and many-time enemy. Now the Doctor was little more than his prison warden and neither of them spoke as the lanky Time Lord added insult to injury by snapping together a thin, metal ring around his neck. 

It was humiliating, wearing a circlet that was reserved for common _slaves_ when he had not two days ago been the conqueror of Earth with much loftier goals than ruling a simple, primitive planet. He'd been so close to taking his rightful claim on the universe, only to be reduced to a slave and prisoner of the one person he'd wanted by his side to see the glory he could achieve, the self same person who had taken all of what he'd worked so hard for away in a matter of minutes and was reducing him to this degradation.

His cheeks and neck burned against the cold, unfeeling metal, hatred and loathing pouring off him in waves that the Doctor would have to have the dull senses of one of his precious humans not to feel. The Doctor's hand faltered almost imperceptibly, but it didn't stop him from finishing his work as quickly as those long fingers would allow. When the Doctor stepped back, he still didn't look up to meet the lighter brown eyes that accused him of the worst betrayal since what he'd done to his own race. Instead, the Doctor looked at the Master's chin, cheerfully explaining the terms of his imprisonment as if he were babbling about his latest repair job on the TARDIS. "Right then, there you are. One Scanderaian choker. It's quite fetching to be honest, though it doesn't really match your usual suits." 

As he babbled, the Doctor deftly started to undo the straps that had been holding the Master to the bed in the TARDIS medical bay. The moment his hands were unrestrained, the Master quickly reached out to the Doctor's long neck to choke the last breath out of the man even as the new collar chafed at his neck. No, not chafing: it was actually growing smaller, to the point where he couldn't even breathe when his fingers drew within an inch of the Doctor's body. The choking caught him so by surprise that he fell back against the bed as the lack of oxygen made him dizzy, gasping at what little air was being allowed through his trachea. The collar finally loosened back to normal as he drew painful breaths to his oxygen starved lungs.

"Sorry about that. Those would be the special adjustments I made," the Doctor said, his cheerful tone showing just a tiny speck of strain as he kept his eyes trained to the straps around the Master's legs. "Don't worry, it won't kill you. Wouldn't chance that after the stunt you pulled when Lucy shot you earlier. It'll only choke you until you fall unconscious. I wouldn't try engaging your respiratory by-pass system to circumvent that, by the way. You'll get a nasty shock aimed to incapacitate you and the headache afterward isn't worth it." 

The Master filed that bit of information away for later, determined to try it as soon as his body had recovered from being shot and then forcefully resuscitated, despite the threat of a headache. The Doctor went on, seemingly oblivious to the irony of their reversed roles, of the Doctor talking and explaining his plans while the Master sat mutely in a terrible silence that threatened to engulf them. Then again, he realized bitterly, the Doctor was much better than the smaller man at ignoring such tactics. Or perhaps he honestly didn't care at all. "I am sorry about this... It will only choke you if you try to leave the TARDIS on your own or get out of range from me. About... 100 meters, I think I set it? That, and it will start to choke you the moment you try to hurt someone - me, yourself, or any innocent bystander we meet along the way."

The Master glared, his tongue slipping despite his self made promise to treat the Doctor with equal disdain as he'd been on the receiving end of during what those who remembered were starting to call 'The Year'. He didn't have the patience for such a ruse in this regeneration anyway. "Are you happy now? " he asked bitterly, eyes hardening as waves of loathing continued to emanate from him. 

The Doctor looked up in surprise, though whether at being spoken to or the subject matter of the question, he couldn't tell. The other Time Lord uttered a small "What?" as his eyes moved up, only to quickly slide his eyes down to the floor after managing to keep eye contact for a pitiful 2.7 seconds. At this, the Master scoffed, back in his element of hurting the Doctor as much as possible, even if words were the only attack left to him right now. He noticed that didn't set the collar to choking him with a certain smug satisfaction. "Are you happy now," the Master repeated acidly for his enemy's benefit, pausing emphatically as if trying to explain a simple concept to someone so colossally stupid that he could barely understand simple words. "Now that you finally have me at your beck and call, locked away from all the horror I could commit to the unwitting world outside without your 'benevolent' eye on me? At least I _asked_ you to come along with me, instead of forcing you with a slave collar. But no, of course you're not happy." 

He was all too aware of the hypocrisy of that, especially not even forty-eight hours after he'd held the Doctor captive for a year. He knew this regeneration of the Doctor far too well though. Unlike past regenerations that would have pointed just that out, probably to start getting angry with a lot of yelling, or simply ignoring the pointless taunts, this version of the Doctor fell easily into self recrimination. It was so easy to hurt him this way. 

The Doctor was opening his mouth to say something in his defense, but the Master cut him off, delaying whatever egocentric, impossibly moralistic response the Doctor might give him. "Of course _the Doctor_ isn't happy with this. No, he's too morally _good_ to gloat over a fallen enemy or want a prisoner or slave to have to constantly look after and take care of."

"Master-"

"You cowardly bastard. You like to hide behind your own 'moral duty', don't you?" the Master went on, ignoring the anger and hurt now appearing in the Doctor's darker brown eyes as he finished unbinding the Master's legs. He would revel in that later, but right now he was too furious at this humiliation to stop long enough to enjoy it. "Though you've made it perfectly clear you can live without me easily enough. You've never managed to bother with me otherwise, so it really shouldn't come as a surprise." 

There was shock in the Doctor's eyes now as he gaped openly at the Master's words. He was a little surprised himself at how bitter and hurt his voice sounded. The Master hadn't meant to say it that emotionally, but it hurt the Doctor deeply. Seizing on that, he trudged on despite his own misgivings about the subject matter. "That's all I've ever been to you, haven't I? An _obligation_ , one that in the past could be left behind and forgotten because it was convenient and now has gotten so out of hand that you're forced to deal with me."

The Doctor, who had been so very communicative earlier when he had been able to get away with meaningless babble, closed his eyes for a moment as he searched for the proper words. "That isn't true, Master. You've never been just an 'obligation' to me. You-"

"Wasn't I?" Seething under a snarl, the Master decided he really didn't want to hear whatever pathetic excuse the Doctor came up with to explain himself. More lies that only fed his fury were the absolute last thing he wanted to hear right now. "Tell me, _Theta_ ," he said, spitting the name out with a mocking bow of his head that made the Doctor wince. "How often did you look up and see me there? Did you ever even notice me half the time or were you too busy reading a book on Earth history? You never even noticed I _existed_ unless I forced you to pay attention and it took more and more to force your attention after every attempt. Then you _left_ , forgetting about me completely."

The accusation in his voice caused the Doctor to step back and forced him to prop himself up against the headboard to see the lanky man properly. It made him a little light headed to sit up after losing so much blood earlier and the constant drum beat grew louder. He had to fight to regain control over his thoughts and words to keep up the barrage. "You left and didn't come back," he started again, barely managing to keep the weakness out of his voice as he attempted to move away from the headboard. 

The Doctor started to take a step forward this time to try and help, but was caught off guard by the glare that met his attempt. "You didn't come back for _centuries_. Then you got yourself exiled on this god-forsaken, primitive planet and had to stay in one place. A place I could find you and force you to take notice of me again."

"You could have just asked," the Doctor said with a soft intensity and a more guarded look on his face. "There was no reason for you to kill innocent people just for me to recognize you were there."

He scoffed openly at this information, letting out a sharp bark of laughter. The Master was under no illusions of his own nature, knowing he would have turned down this path of power and conquest on his own accord sooner or later. That didn't change that the Doctor had been the catalyst for most of his plots and schemes, however. "No, of course not! All I had to do was ask. Or kill a few innocents and be accused of murder, since asking had never gotten me anywhere back at the academy. Tell me, Doctor, was I really that different from your dear Brigadier and the rest of UNIT? They killed just as many as I did and even willingly committed _genocide_ \- a crime I've only ever done accidentally, I might add, which is more than you can say - and you did what? Slap them on the wrist? Get angry with the Brigadier for a few weeks before going all chummy with him again?" 

The Master narrowed his eyes, fury growing with every word as the Doctor continued to back up till he hit the wall. The truth of the matter was all too plan to see. "You wouldn't have watched _him_ burn without lifting a finger to help on Sarn, would you?" Raising an eyebrow, the Master let out a lower chuckle as the Doctor looked away, guilt in his expression waiting to be read like one of those Earth books he liked so much. "No, I didn't think so. You can forgive those primitive humans of anything, but when it comes to me wanting power, I'm the worst monster in existence. And what do you know, look what I've become."

For a while, neither of them spoke. The Master stared hard at the man who infuriated and maddened him, who even at this moment couldn't stand to _look_ at him. It was sickening, how much he _needed_ the Doctor to look at him even as the drums threatened to overwhelm all conscious thought. He burned with desire to have the Doctor, to be all the Doctor thought of, to have those damned eyes look at him with something other than thinly veiled disgust or pity. 

Finally, the Doctor looked up, this time meeting his eyes with the full brunt of the guilt and pity showing. It was the Master's turn to want to break the gaze to avoid that offensive _pity_ the Doctor never seemed to lose, but he forced himself to meet the look with challenge and fury as the Doctor spoke. "I forgave you. It may have taken me a while, but I have."

"You forgave me, yeah," he replied easily, throwing careless words at the other Time Lord as easily as throwing darts onto a bulls-eye. "You forgave me, then ignored my wishes, dragged me back from death, imprisoned me, and then humiliated me with a slave collar, all while trying to act morally superior like it's your _right_ to do this to me. Anything I've left out?"

The Doctor simply looked sad at this, as the Master swung his feet over the side of the bed, determined to leave despite the sharp dizziness he felt at the movement. It would pass and the Master needed to be as far away as possible from those thrice damned sorrowful eyes. "Yes, Master, you have," he heard the Doctor say, the muscles in his shoulders tensing at the sound of his voice. He had to use quite a bit of willpower not to wince in pain as the movement jarred the stiff muscles of his still painful injury. The Doctor hadn't the time to heal him completely yet, just enough to stop a resumed bleeding so he wouldn't die again shortly after being revived. It hurt like hell, as the humans would say. The veins pounding around the injured flesh in time with the drums only made him dizzier and he had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from crying out though he had no plans of waiting for the 'doctor' to finish tending his patient. He almost missed the Doctor's next words because of it, combined with how quietly he spoke. "You haven't told me what you want," he continued. "What I can give you to make this more bearable. I'm not here to make you miserable."

"What I want?" he echoed mockingly, hearts aching with desire for that which he loathed. He was becoming a little afraid of his honesty that he'd never been able to voice in previous regenerations, but it was hurting the Doctor too much to stop now. He took comfort in the fact he wasn't alone in being miserable and humiliated. "I want power, domination, knowledge of the secret, the forbidden. I want you over that table, over every surface space on the Valiant, moaning my name and seeing nothing but me in your universe." _Like I see nothing but you_ , the Master thought, but didn't say. The words hung over them unspoken, but he could see by the frightened look in the Doctor's eyes that he understood. "Can you give me any of that in good conscience, Doctor? No, of course not," he spit out. "That's why I've been turned into a _pet_ , collar and all, lower than even those ridiculous humans you keep around to hang on your every word. I suppose this is all some misguided attempt at revenge for the tent." 

The Doctor flushed, an expression the Master was quick to count as a triumph. Not because seeing the shamed red on the Doctor's cheeks sped up his beating hearts, he quickly asserted to his own body. No, because this meant the taunts were working and that he wasn't baring his soul to the Doctor for no reason other than a one-sided lover's quarrel. Maybe a flat out, proper refusal might finally shake of him of this unwanted obsession, though he wasn't honestly sure he could handle such a thing if it were to happen.

The Doctor didn't offer a rejection, however. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he stared at the wall, whatever inner monologue he was having kept strictly off his face. It only served to make the Master angrier, the ever chatty Doctor falling silent when he wanted the idiot to say something, anything, even just babble like he'd _seen_ the Doctor do at a distance during those long months before he sprang his trap. The Doctor had spoken so little during the Year that it only made him ache more for that ever blasted voice to speak now. He'd been about to break the silence himself out of sheer impatience - or just leave the room in disgust to curl up somewhere the Doctor wouldn't find him - when the Doctor did finally speak, his words pitched to barely carry across the distance between them. "I could give you at least one of those things."

He felt his eyes widen as he stilled completely. Out of the options he'd given the Doctor, there was really only one he might actually consent to, the one he might even be forced to admit to himself that he wanted the most. Oh, how he _ached_ for it. He took a sharp, involuntary breath at the mere thought of taking the Doctor now and... His eyes narrowed as pure rage settled over him like a shroud. He stood up, fury keeping the light-headed feeling at bay. "I don't need your fucking _sympathy_ ," he hissed. He suddenly didn't care if the TARDIS would rearrange itself to frustrate his attempts to hide; he prepared to leave the room and attempt it anyway. "Is that why you keep your human pets? If I'd known you'd whore yourself out because of pity, I-"

His brain didn't have a chance to process how quickly the Doctor moved. He was suddenly lying on the bed, back being pressed against the mattress as he let out a sharp yelp at the pain in his shoulder. It was cut off by an angry mouth claiming his, nearly biting down on his lip in fury. The kiss was hard and bruising, the Doctor's tongue claiming access to his gaping mouth and forcing him to respond before he even knew what he was doing. The Doctor tasted of sweet tea and honey, guilt and fury and oh, that wasn't at all how he'd thought the Doctor would taste. How many times had he imagined kissing the Doctor, those lips pressed against his in yearning, neither of them conscious of anything but the blood flowing through their veins with every pounding heart beat? He let out a soft moan into the Doctor's mouth before he could stop it. This wasn't how he'd ever imagined their first kiss, not being on the opposite end of the forced affection. It was so terrible-frightening-glorious-amazing that he never wanted it to _end_.

It wasn't until the Doctor pulled away so they could both breathe that he realized he was trembling, in fear or desire, he honestly couldn't say. "Don't," he said, panting lightly as he struggled to form coherent thoughts over the drums. Or were those his heart beats? They melded so close to each other that he couldn't tell the eight different beats apart anymore. "Don't... Don't touch me... Bastard. Not if you don't..."

For a moment, it looked like the Doctor would stop, sanity returning to those darkened brown eyes for a brief moment of concern and uncertainty. Unfortunately, that was exactly when the Master's hands betrayed him, pulling at the buttons of the Doctor's shirt with the shameless intent to take what his body craved for centuries. The Doctor's eyes hardened with an expression that clearly read 'You wanted this' and he dove right back into those punishing kisses. This time, he passed over the Master's mouth to his neck as his hands carefully undid his shirt without putting more pressure on the other Time Lord's bad shoulder.

The moment those gregarious lips touched his neck, the Master gasped a cross between a mew and a whimper, his body arching up to meet the Doctor's of its own accord. He let out another yelp a few minutes later as the Doctor bit down just above that cursed collar, his hips bucking in the need for the Doctor despite the cruel reminder of his humiliation. 

No-No-No- _No_. He was stronger than this. He was the Master and he could control his own damn body to stop acting like a bitch in heat that - "Doctor!" he gasped out involuntarily as the bastard next attacked his mental pleasure centers, twisting and tweaking with such aggression until he had near melted into the mattress. 

Trainers thumped to the floor as the Doctor deftly dealt with the rest of their clothing while he was too dizzy with blood loss and desire to protest. Was it just him, or did the bed suddenly seem much bigger than it had earlier? Damned TARDIS, just as bad as its owner. He needed to fight back, take control of this encounter and shove the Doctor away, correct the fantasies to their proper positions of him being in control. But the Doctor was bigger and heavier - not stronger, but his own body was currently weakened and flat out refusing to obey his commands. He was so caught up in these thoughts that he failed to notice how the Doctors hands had left him and were reaching out to something out of his line of sight. It wasn't until a pillow was placed under his hips and slick fingers were reaching past his hardened erection that he realized how terribly _wrong_ this was.

His eyes grew wide and panicked as a single finger slipped into him. "No-Stop!" he cried out as he managed to grab the Doctor's arm with hands that were finally responding, even though they trembled.

The Doctor paused, scorn and hurt barely apparent in his own breathless words. "All those fantasies, Master, all those times you wanted to take me over 'every surface of the Valiant' and you never _once_ imagined what it would be like for me to take you? That's disappointing. Not to mention you don't even have the strength to take me right now." A second finger was slipped in as the Master squirmed and whimpered, the wretched intrusions stretching him open. 

The Doctor kept on speaking, his voice holding the low intensity he used to try and convince threats that it was better to play nicely than to cross him. "I thought you were more imaginative than that, though I obviously didn't take into account how self-centered you can be. I suppose I'm so compliant in your fantasies that I'd never even mention it. So typical of you, too busy caught up in your daydreams and plots to understand the reality of what you're doing. And you call me the oblivious one." Leave it to the Doctor to _babble_ while fucking him. The Master let out a half-sob, half-laugh as a third finger invaded him. "Don't you _want_ this, Master?" the Doctor asked over one of the Master's cries. "Tell me you want this."

No, he _didn't_ want this in any way shape or form. Not like this, not like... "No," he forced his lips to say. "I don't..." Gasping as the Doctor's fingers shifted, spreading him further, the Master fell into using the human profanity he'd learned during his time living among them. "God, yes. I want this. I want you - Oh, God, I don't want this to stop. Please, I want you. _Doctor!_ Take me, please." Did he just... he was _begging_ , of all the indignities, but hell if he knew how to get himself to stop. Centuries of desire and longing had stolen his control away from him, leaving him _pining_ and pleading for an indignity that he should want to stop. Why the bloody hell didn't his body respond the way he wanted it to? It was enough to make him start sobbing in frustration, but he still had willpower enough to keep from crying. 

He hoped.

This wasn't how he imagined it would go, not at all. He certainly hadn't imagined that instead of keeping his legs shut, the Master couldn't help but moan and open them wider as the Doctor's lips stopped babbling and resumed kissing again, this time moving up the Master's thighs. 

He went on like that for some time before the Master realized what he was doing. Rassilon, he was still _dithering_ , probably because of his earlier protest. "You indecisive, cowardly _bastard_ ," he spat, rocking his hips to encase more of those long fingers inside him further than the Doctor had dared, determined to fuck himself properly if the other man kept stalling. "Get on with it or I'll-" Abruptly, the Doctor's hand drew away and he cut himself of with another moan as his hips bucked at the loss. At least he wasn't making those pathetic driveling noises any more.

He had a moment to breathe as the Doctor slicked his own hard cock in preparation. He could run now, make a dash for the door and pray the TARDIS forgave him enough for his past crimes to her to let him hide. Would he even make it off the bed? He was dizzy and light headed from blood loss _and_ had a very hard erection that would be rather painful to run with. Plus, as the Doctor had so cruelly pointed out earlier, his stamina was drastically cut due to being dragged back unwillingly from the dead. Perhaps the better question was did he want to try? The Doctor would stop - nearly had stopped twice now - if he really put forth an effort to struggle or managed a more serious protest. He could end this madness with a bit of self control, so he wouldn't be fucked for a reason so pitiful as sympathy, without any real care or other emotional response for _him_ other than to make the life of a prisoner more 'bearable'. Did he want it to stop?

 _No_.

No, he wanted this, craved this, as much as his shameless body that panted and moaned every second the Doctor was absent from him in anticipation. Even if it didn't matter to the Doctor whether he was slicking himself up for the Master or some infatuated human, he could pretend the Doctor thought of nothing but him with every thrust. Even as his terrified mind panicked over what was about to happen, it was willing to let his legs move further apart in anticipation of the act, clinging to an illusion that the Doctor actually gave a damn. The four beats of the drum taunted him on how truly pathetic he was and how far he'd fallen, but the Master didn't care.

There was a silly notion among humans that emotion came from the heart. It was stupid and unscientific - he remembered scoffing at Lucy for something she'd said along those lines because every intelligent species knew that emotions were part of a vastly complex brain system, not an organ that's sole purpose was to beat out the blood to the rest of the body. Dear Lucy had never been the brightest, but it was obvious most of the human race was obsessed with the idea. Time Lords have two hearts, which lead to 'double the love' according to her. That wasn't true at all though. Following the fallacy to its true end, a Time Lord had two hearts so he could loathe and love, despise and desire, in equal measures.

When the Doctor finally entered him, he let out an embarrassingly high pitched shriek as his hands fisted the bed covers. It occurred to him this regeneration was far from suited for this first time. One of his other bodies would have had more patience, more control, or at least more dignity than to allow the kinds of sounds he was making to pass through his half parted lips between gasped refrains of the Doctor's name. 

It wasn't at all like he imagined it to be and, oh, he had imagined this so many times. Forcing the Doctor and hearing him cry for mercy as he made it as painful as possible in revenge for the centuries of sexual frustration. Seducing a willing Doctor to his bed with gentle words and delicate touches until he _begged_ for it to be harder. In bed, over his desk, on the TARDIS console, somewhere outdoors with people watching or a secluded tryst. With handcuffs, with blind folds and gags or sheer naked brilliance to feast his eyes with on that quivering body demanding to be taken forcefully, in so many different positions, but never, ever like this. Never with the Doctor inside him, invading him body and mind, controlling the thrusts with a slow rhythm that he _longed_ to speed up, for it to be harder, more punishing to the point where he wouldn't be able to walk the next day. He gave a sharp gasp as the Doctor did just that, belatedly realizing he had asked - _begged_ \- for it out loud, the Doctor's hand now grasping at his cock as he pumped in a rhythm that was off tempo to the drums.

Even still, he could imagine the Doctor babbling to him, apologies and reasons for not loving him sooner, for taking so long to understand that the Master was the proper center of his universe, just like the Doctor was the center of his. Of calling his name out in pure lust even as the Master cried out his with all the passion and loathing rolled into that one single word, pouring his thoughts into the Doctor's psychic pleasure centers even as the other Time Lord did the same.

He rocked his hips forward greedily, taking in more of the Doctor as he imagined lust in the lanky man's dark brown eyes. He was gratified with an actual gasp and ever deeper and wonderfully painful intrusions into him. "Master..." he heard the Doctor cry in such a way that he thought he must have imagined it. He stilled for a moment, then shivered as the Doctor continued the punishing thrusts he craved. Yes-Yes-Yes- _Yes_. "Oh, Master," he cried again with more heat, pumping the Master's cock with less art as he fingered the head that was long since sticky with precum. "Master!" 

The Master could barely breathe by this point, too far gone, too deliriously far gone to care about his pride and ego anymore. His eclipsing fear of this loss of control only pushed him further and harder. He came in the Doctor's hand the forth time his name was cried, half gasped by those beautiful lips even as he screamed the Doctor's name. He nearly blacked out after that, hanging on to consciousness only through sheer will.

The Doctor kept thrusting even as the aftershocks made the Master tremble and he was overcome with the fear that the Doctor wouldn't be able to finish inside him, that his true feelings would show and he'd pull out carelessly to properly finish off. He whimpered as he shook and tensed around the Doctor, fear and loathing quickly followed by two beats of love and sated pleasure. Finally, the Doctor came inside him, so long and hard that the Master could scarcely believe it.

Exhausted, he could barely move other than to tremble as the Doctor pulled out of him at the end. "Sh," he said lightly in the Master's ear as he lay down next to him. "It's alright. I'm here. Sh..." The Master was being babied and the small part of him that could still think coherently was offended, even if he couldn't muster up the energy to glare. Instead, he pressed his body against the Doctor's as one of the other man's arms snaked across his chest possessively, the other hand reaching across for a small hand towel from the medkit to clean up with. 

He'd never hated the Doctor more than in this moment.

It was an impossible, broken reality he was now faced with. He'd never even _dreamed_ such an intimate encounter could be possible, yet now this and every variation his vicious, self-torturing mind could come up with joined with his already numerous other fantasies. It wasn't _fair_ to love someone this much and not have them return the feelings. The sex had only whetted his desire, not dulled it, and he was left craving more of that touch, more of the Doctor to an extent he'd never known before. It was like those drugs that humans used, growing addicted after one dose and becoming hooked on it until it finally killed them. The Doctor giving him this only turned his craving into an addiction and how he was furious with the man for that.

Loath-Love-Loath-Love. The four beats switched so quickly between desire and despair that he felt like one of those foolish human girls, picking at the petals of a flower. He loves me, he loves me not. I fear him, I fear him not. I want him, I want him dead. He hates me... I hate him not. Back and forth, never one or the other for more than a single beat of his hearts.

"You called me the monster," he said quietly, barely recognizing his own voice with how thick and dry it sounded, cracking lightly on the words. "I had you for a year on the Valiant and I never once touched you. I'm not even _your_ prisoner for more than a day and I get _this_."

He didn't realize he was crying until he felt an impossibly gentle hand wiping the tears away. Ashamed of his weakness and inability to control his own body, the Master tried to pull away, to wipe furiously at the tears himself. He couldn't even pinpoint _why_ he was crying exactly: the exhaustion, the frustration, equal parts of wanting and despairing what had just happened, the humiliation, the shame, the _need_. 

Hands caught his, pulling them away from his eyes to replace the furious rubbing with tender lips. Rassilon, the Doctor was _kissing_ away his tears. "Stop!" he cried out between sobs that threatened to overwhelm him. "Don't - Stop that!" He tried struggling, but it was to no avail and the Doctor's lips brushed tantalizingly over his now closed lids as he trembled. "Don't do-"

The Doctor cut him off by lowering himself to the Master's mouth, kissing him so sweetly that the Master nearly broke apart. Was this really all just a ruse to make his life more bearable as a prisoner? If anything, this God-forsaken attempt just made it harder. Now that he'd had this, he was already pining for more even as his tongue desperately sought out the Doctor's. It _hurt_ , even more than the aches of the rest of his now very sore body, like a black hole pulsing between his two hearts, clawing and sucking at his soul until there was nothing left. 

By the time the Doctor pulled away, he no longer had the will to protest the silent tears that still ran down his flushed cheeks. It took every speck of what little remained of his self control to not curl up against the Doctor's chest and just weep as the insufferable man continued to kiss away the salty liquid. He barely managed, though his body felt so tense that even the slightest feather touch would snap him in two at the effort. 

"I'm sorry," the Doctor whispered against his ear, lips barely brushing against the skin in such a way that left the Master longing for the other man to bite or suck at his ear lobe with those cruel lips of his. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"Don't you dare," the Master hissed, fury returning as he opened his still tear-filled eyes with a murderous rage on his face. "Don't you _dare_ apologize for that, ever." Because he wasn't sure he'd be able to handle being told it had all been a _mistake_ when he'd wanted and craved it so much and he was terrified of more loss of control. He knew he was angry because of what just happened, what he was just forced into, but that didn't mean he could take being told it meant nothing more than a mistake.

The Doctor shushed him, which only succeeded in gaining him more resentment, then finished the sentence regardless. "I shouldn't have done that while we were both so angry, shouldn't have forced you to make that decision in the way I did. I guess I do need someone to stop me, occasionally."

Oh.

He wasn't all together sure how to respond to that. For one, when were they ever _not_ angry or resenting each other? But at the same time, it was an admittance by omission. By wanting to wait until they weren't angry and trying to hurt each other, did that mean the Doctor had thought of such a thing before? Had he, like the Master, dreamed of how he would take and be taken by his old enemy? That... that didn't mean, despite his earlier protest, that he could forgive the Doctor for what was just done to him. That would be a long time in coming, if it were even possible. That didn't mean forgiveness was entirely necessary at this point in time, however.

Gathering the limp Master in his arms, the Doctor pulled the shorter Time Lord against him until the Master's head rested against his chest, ever careful and gentle of his wounded shoulder. It was easy to hear the Doctor's hearts beat like that, so much like the sound of the drums that he absently drummed the rhythm against the Doctor's bare skin with his fingers. "I hate you," he said finally, once the tears had subsided and he trusted his voice enough to speak. "More than anything. I would have laid the universe at your feet."

Closing his eyes, he felt more than saw the Doctor's hand caressing his face, his cheeks and neck once again burning in shame as his body leaned into the touch as if he starved for it. In a way, he had. The centuries of longing betrayed him when he finally had reality right in front of him. "I know," the Doctor said sadly. "Maybe that's the trouble with us. You wanted everything and I wanted nothing. Well," he said, drawing the word out and raising his eyebrows as he looked up to the ceiling, "maybe a good cup of tea every once and a while, but certainly not the universe." 

He rolled his eyes at the Doctor's quip, not bothering to respond to that. The Doctor took that as a cue to go on, lightly dragging his fingers through the Master's hair with a movement he wished would never stop. "Neither of us have really been able to forgive each other for centuries now, not really. Not since... Well, it was Logopolis for me, and I'm assuming Sarn for you. You aren't exactly the easiest to love, either."

"What?" He looked up at the Doctor in surprise, his brain just barely managing to grasp the meaning of his words as the drums thundered over his thoughts. Not easy to...

The Doctor made a small noise of conformation that left the Master's head spinning and he went on as if he'd said nothing out of the ordinary. "You aren't, you know. Not that I've ever been able to force myself to stop, no matter what you've done, but sometimes it's so hard to be in love with you, knowing all the crimes you've committed." He paused for a moment, sniffing lightly as he continued to absently toy with the Master's hair. "Some regenerations I never could bring myself to forgive you, yeah, but it always kept me up at night, wondering if you were really gone for good this time, how lonely I'd be if you were and how many people would die the next time I saw you if you weren't. I never was able to make sense of how I could keep loving you, despite all of that."

He was floored, to be perfectly honest. That was one of the last things he'd ever expected to hear from the Doctor - who ran away from everything, including his feelings - and he stared up at the other Time Lord in shock as the information soaked through his much abused head. The Doctor smiled fondly - _fondly_ \- down at him in a way that he hadn't seen since... was it the Doctor's third regeneration? Long fingers caught his chin tenderly as the Doctor's other arm held him close. "You didn't really think I didn't?" He asked quietly, lips quirked upward the tiniest bit in almost imperceptible amusement. "Well, I can see you did. You always could be so insufferably foolish sometimes. Remember when you - Master!" He paused, concern flicking across his features. "Master, you're crying again."

This time, he really hadn't needed the Doctor's input to know that. He was already furiously rubbing at his eyes again, only pausing long enough to send a watery glare to Captain Obvious. Feeling the need to assert himself and regain what little control he had left, the Master scoffed. "This won't keep me forever, you know. I'm going to escape."

At this, the Doctor sighed, leaning back against the pillows. "I never doubted that," he said, almost in relief - at the change of subject or the fact that this uncomfortable arrangement wasn't permanent, the Master didn't know. The current situation didn't suit either of them though, not the way the Master's mad plan with the paradox machine had. "And no doubt when you do break free, you'll find some way to hurt me even worse than I've done to you right now. It seems to be the way of us."

Privately, the Master knew that was the Doctor's need of self punishment speaking. The last time the Doctor had hurt him near this badly, he'd sulked by himself for a few, bitter decades and it took a several half-hearted schemes before he was back in top form. Even then, he made sure to avoid what he'd done to make the Doctor that angry, past the point when the Doctor would be forced to deal out the punishment himself. Briefly, his mind flickered back to the Keller machine and what it had shown him. Not even the Master was immune to the fear of the 'On-Coming Storm' and he'd known far earlier than the rest of the universe just how terribly cruel the wonderful Doctor could be.

Resting his head against the Doctor's chest, he was not quite clinging to the man as he shoved those thoughts aside. Where did this put them now? More than enemies, less than lovers had been the status quo for so long that he was almost at a loss for where they could go from here. He wanted to curl up and hide for two solid weeks after this (could he even _walk_ to find a hiding place? He was almost certain he would be limping tomorrow), but he knew it wouldn't take long after those two weeks were up for him to slink back into the Doctor's bed for as long as he remained his prisoner. 

"You don't, though," he said a while later, going back to the original topic of the conversation as the Doctor lightly traced his cheek. "Love me, I mean. I'm no different from one of your human pets you grow so fond of, am I? No, don't _lie_ about it," he snapped as the Doctor started to speak. "You don't love me like I love you."

He felt the Doctor's chest raise for a sigh and the lanky man craned his neck down to plant a chaste kiss on his forehead that the Master would have melted into had he not been so offended by how condescending it was. "No, you're right. I don't." The careless way the Doctor said it hurt one thousand times worse than the collar and near rape combined, despite knowing full well it was the truth before the Doctor had said it. "Master," he continued, "you are one of the most remarkable people I've ever met. Remarkably cruel more often than not, but still remarkable. I don't think there's a single being in the universe that can love the way you do and you know, that both terrifies and flatters me. You do have good taste in lovers, if not facial hair and melodramatics, I'll give you that."

The Doctor was smiling lightly, but he certainly didn't share the joke. It had suddenly become harder to breathe and not even his respiratory by-pass system helped get oxygen to his brain. He was terrified to know what the Doctor was going to say next, but he couldn't shut the other man out either. He hung on every word, like a train wreak you couldn't take your eyes off of no matter how terrible, how horrifying it was.

Finally, the Doctor spoke again, rubbing soothing circles into the Master's back. "That doesn't mean I can't and won't love you the way I can though. I do love the friends who travel with me, but they all eventually leave. You're the only one who ever keeps coming back, just like a bad penny, you are. That was why... I just couldn't let you die."

The Master stayed silent as he took all of that in, unsure of what to make of that. He wasn't even sure if he could make sense of how to react to it, though he was rather grateful when his lungs started working properly again. His reality was broken and shattered at the Doctor's feet and it was too soon to tell if it could slowly be pieced back together. If he even wanted it to be...

The Doctor's gorgeous hands were still rubbing his back in such a way that the Master arched his spine in pleasure, despite how it hurt his shoulder. Much more of that and he would be hard again and he knew for a fact his body didn't have the energy for round two. He glared as the Doctor started to laugh, failing to see what was so funny. "I never would have dreamed you'd end up being this responsive," he said, amusement and fondness in his tone. "Like it much?"

"Doctor?" he asked as his eyes narrowed, an effect that was ruined by not able to keep from tilting his head into the Doctor's touch like a cat preening to be adored, though he did put up a good effort at keeping up the glare as he did so. 

"Yes, Master?"

"Shut up."

~FIN~

**Author's Note:**

> Memory: Okay, that still creeps me out, but hey... I'm told it's hot by those that enjoy this sort of thing, so I must have done something right. ^_^;;;
> 
> Quote of the fic:
> 
> "There are two tragedies in life. One is not to get your heart's desire. The other is to get it."  
> -George Bernard Shaw


End file.
